


Great, Cool

by nosecoffee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Again, Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, past relationship, refusal to rebound, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6830341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was reading The Times and that was weird, because he never did that. Never, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great, Cool

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song Great, Cool. This is pretty angst I have to admit.

 

**John**

He was reading The Times and that was weird, because he never did that. Never, really.

  
His paint-stained fingers turned the pages methodically as he sipped coffee from a mug he'd used for paint water too many times. John stroked a hand through his hair so it didn't frizz in the humidity of the open window.

  
And he swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat when the next page was an article about _him_.

  
_Alexander_.

  
There was a picture, a good one too, of him giving some lecture in Australia about the importance of something that John had never been interested in.

  
According to the article, Alexander's new book was coming out soon, and would be available on Amazon.

  
John didn't care about the fucking book. He'd never really cared about the things Alexander wrote, because when he wrote, he got lost in his own little world that didn't care about anything.

  
John guessed he should have. Maybe they'd be together now if he had.

  
He shook his head. John hated dwelling on mistakes long past fixing. He reached for the scissors he'd left on the bench and cut the photo out. It would be a good addition to the scrapbook of photos of them. When they were together, when they were just friends, what they had, and what was good.

  
They'd only done what they should've to make sure they both got what they'd always dreamed of.

  
He only looked at it when he started to forget the exact shade of brown of Alexander's eyes.

  
The lump remained in his throat when he thought about all the times Alexander had finished something amazing and grabbed John's hands and told him _This is it, this'll get me off the ground._

  
Now he was making headlines just like he'd always wanted, like John always believed he would. He was exactly where he'd hoped to be. John was too.

  
He just wondered absently if it had all been worth them.

  
John shook his head and walked back to the bench. Cold coffee was something he wouldn't stand for.

-

**Alex**

Alex smiled when he saw it. He'd recognise that drawing anywhere. Hell, he'd been the one to bounce onto John's bed and beg him to post it online. They were fifteen.

  
It was a cartoon of two turtles holding hands with a little love-heart floating above their heads. Alex had remarked something like 'No home is complete without a drawing of two turtles in love.'

  
John had pushed him off the bed, laughing, at the time. But years later, he'd told Alex that the turtles were them and that he was in love with him.

  
It didn't surprise Alex in the least that John's cartoons were all over Japan. They loved him and his turtles. John would love this. He was famous in Japan.

  
He was doing a tour, doing lectures on education, and stuff like that, which John had always complained was boring. He'd been in Australia a few weeks ago, and now he was in Japan, on his night off.

  
They loved John. Loved his cartoons. Alex walked past a shop and saw in the window that they were playing an interview, with John with his freckles and his hair in a bun with paintbrushes stuck through it to pin it in place. He put a hand to the glass. Even when he was overseas he couldn't escape him.

  
Alex was almost glad to see him talk so animatedly. Mostly so he could pretend John was there with him, like he'd promised before everything fell apart.

  
John had made it everywhere.

  
He was successful, just like Alex had told him he'd be. He was looking great, so happy, dimples shadowed in the artificial light of the talk show stage.

  
Alex let his hand slip down the glass. John was in New York, and Alex was in Tokyo. He needed to pull himself together.

  
He started walking again, but John never really stopped invading his mind.

  
'I hope it's what you think it'll be.'

  
Alex winced at the echo of words from years ago when they'd ended.

  
He pulled out his phone and checked contacts. He'd always kept John's number, in case he ever needed it, which was pretty dumb on his part.

  
His impulse control was way out of whack, so honestly, texting him out of the blue like this was pretty stupid.

To 0421+: The truth is, I miss you. Just so you know.

To 0421+: And this path that I've chosen gets lonelier, the further down I go.

John didn't reply, and that was okay. Alex didn't expect him to.

  
He booked tickets to New York anyway, after his lecture the next day.

To 0421+: I'm going to be in New York for a few days. If you want to meet up, I'll be in our place all Saturday afternoon.

-

**John**

Alexander texting him out of the blue like that was... What was the word? Unexpected? Irrelevant? Confusing?

  
And the promise of being somewhere, waiting for him?

  
John had always been a sucker for romance.

  
Maybe this was the universe giving him another chance. Maybe this was fate telling him to go get him.

  
Maybe, and God he wasn't really a big believer in it, just maybe, destiny was on his side for once.

  
Alexander had always been poetic. He was a writer.

  
And a good one at that. His words had always managed to make John melt.

  
He caved.

-

**Alex**

John hadn't texted back at all. He didn't mind. Alex waited on the bench, looking out over the harbour for two hours, checking his phone every now and then to check the time.

  
Eventually, like a breath of fresh air, a man sat down beside him.

  
John didn't look at him, just stared out at the harbour like he used to when he was younger.

  
John took a deep breath and tapped his fingers against his knee. The tips of his fingers, and the line of his fingernails, were red.

  
And then he turned and kissed Alex full on the mouth, putting a hand on Alex's thigh to steady himself as he tipped his head and kissed him with a passion that Alex had been missing for years since they broke up.

  
Alex cupped John's jaw and kissed him back, tasting familiarity and nervousness and uncertainty.

  
"I'm sorry," Alex told him, never separating. "I'm so sorry."

  
"Don't talk, Alexander." John replied, gathering Alex against him, and kissing him for all he was worth, which was nothing without John.

  
Eventually when the desperation dispersed, they broke apart, panting, lips red and swollen, pupils blown. John didn't look him in the eye. Hadn't since he sat down.

  
"We said some things in the past, and maybe we were confused," Alex began, reciting what he could from the inner monologue he'd prepared but John cut him off.

  
"I know, I know. You've said it all before, you know. We were young, and convinced that we wouldn't last. So we broke each other's hearts." John said, staring at the waves lapping at the rocks, a steely grey to match the sky.

  
"I tried." Alex protested.

  
"I know you did. So did I. We just didn't last. We couldn't last. We weren't meant to."

  
"John, I was so sure-!"

  
A hand on his arm stopped him. "I know you were," the cartoonist told him. "And that's great. It's cool, it's fine. Fuck, Alex, it's wonderful."

  
"We had a love that everyone wanted, so why did I let you go?" Alex demanded, grasping both of John's wrists, and dragging him to sit sideways.

  
"Because we were unbalanced, Alexander. We didn't fit like we believed we did. And that's fine."

  
"No it's not!" Alex cried. John still didn't look at him. "Don't you understand, John? _You were the love of my life,_ and I just let you go! Every time I think about you, I think of how much of a fool I was!"

  
John forced Alex to release his wrist and cupped Alex's cheek.

  
"But think about it. Look at how much we've accomplished all on our own. It all turned out great... Right?"

  
John stated at their intertwined fingers.

  
Alex slowed his breathing. He hated how much he didn't want to ever leave John's presence again.

  
"Yes."

  
And finally, finally, John looked up, and their eyes met, dark brown meeting cloudy grey.

  
"Cool."

  
John released him and stood.

  
"Have a good life, Alexander."

  
Alex stood. Watched him begin to walk away. Walk into the sunset that he knew, subconsciously, John was itching to paint.

  
"Wait!" Alex called after him, and ran to him as he turned. He threw himself at John, pressing their lips together in a rush. One last time, he thought to himself.

  
John hugged him, holding him close, red fingers running through Alex's now undone ponytail.

  
And John pushed him away, gently, a finger stroking down his cheek.

  
"Goodbye, Alexander."

  
"I love you." He whispered, the barest noise leaving his lips. John smiled. It was sad. It was uncertain.

  
"I know."

  
And John turned and walked away.

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been told I've made at least two people cry with this. Good feedback. Please leave a comment and a kudos, and you can stalk me on Tumblr @nose-coffee. Thank you, hope you enjoyed.


End file.
